Bio Note: I live in beautiful Madison, Wisconsin. More than anything I love to travel, even to nearby places like Door County or Chicago--it gives me such a boost and often such inspiration for writing! My poems can be found many places, and my recent books are Marrow of Summer and Mothershell.
Poet friends have cautioned me about using those words, they were John Keats’ after all, and he is long dead. Hasn’t the 19th century gone the way of London fog, chamber pots, whalebone corsets? No one, I was told, will believe those words in a poem with no modern ground to plant them, ominously perched as they are on precipices of prayer.
Originally published in Marrow of Summer (Kelsay Books)
A gibbous moon landed on the crowns of the locusts. Shrubs and trees quivered with song. Thoughts, those sweaty old dogs, laid down. Twilight, murmurous and warm, swept into the space it was meant for.
Originally published in An Ink Like Early Twilight (Salmon Poetry)
©2021 Andrea Potos
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